


Palest of Pals

by GravityWolf



Series: Our Fandoms Unite [1]
Category: Doctor Who, Fandomstuck - Fandom, Hetalia: Axis Powers, Homestuck, Sherlock (TV), Supernatural
Genre: Anger, Caliginous Romance | Kismesis, Depression, Fluffy and Twisted Feelings, Multi, Pale Romance | Moirallegiance, Romantic Friendship, Sadness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-20
Updated: 2013-03-17
Packaged: 2017-11-29 23:46:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 13
Words: 17,413
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/692907
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GravityWolf/pseuds/GravityWolf
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Your name is the HETALIA FANDOM and you are currently trying to stop your morial from killing someone. Like usual.<br/>~</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Ship: Homestuck Hetalia and some others later  
> Warning: *SPOILERS for HOMESTUCK UPDATE and about Fandomstuck* and some sad/pale feelings.))  
> FANFIC belongs to ME  
> Characters and Fandombound belong to original creators  
> ~

Your name is the HETALIA FANDOM and you’ve been really stressed out today. Not only have you had your morial, Homestuck, been freaking out about who knows what, but you’ve been trying to deal with all the attention his ‘sickness’ has brought him. You hope he’ll get better from it, but he didn’t get into the details, maybe for your sake, maybe for his, you don’t know. Apparently he has been sick for a while now, and that’s why he looks like he’s woken up on the wrong side of the bed every day. He’s the best friend you could have ever hoped for, and it hurts you to see him in such a bad state, but even not sick, he’s a handful. You don’t mind. But yet you are so angry about all the sudden attention that he’s getting from the other fandoms. They didn’t care. Did they stay up for late-night phone-calls about the recent update? Did they have pasta and movie palemate-dates? Did they stop him from his multiple panics, outbursts and rage modes? Did they ever crush so hard that it’s really tricky to not blush while he’s around- wait, you didn’t mean to say that. But anyway, NO they didn’t. You and Homestuck were two fandoms that never caught much attention, but when you did, it was when you died and when he is sick.  
Now that’s just stupid. When you died, Homestuck lost it, and yet again, you didn’t want to get into the details of what happened when you died. All you know is that he flipped out. Badly. And that there are a few less fandoms than there were. Homestuck has never been the same since you left. And right now you are trying to find him, which isn’t really that hard since the alarms in the Update room just went off. Shit.   
When you enter, you didn’t expect what you found, but your morial is wailing loudly while smashing his own Update box with some kind of colorful hammer. That box should have held the recent news for his comic. This couldn’t be good if he was like this. It seems that fandoms Sherlock and Dr.Who are trying to calm him, but to no avail, and narrowly avoid a hammer to the skull. But when you approach, you realize you have another thing coming. You’ve never seen him like this before, and you don’t know if a thousand shoosh-paps could stop this.  
He’s glowing spookily, a flashing-like cue-ball in place his eyes, which is very unnerving. Tendrils of black seem to engulfing his body, matching his blood that runs down his cheeks from his eye sockets. His horns have changed from their normal sharp tipped to curved goat-like ones, but his snarling matches a grizzly bear’s.  
“Homestuck!” You cry out, moving forward, but are stopped.  
Sherlock whips over to you and grabs your wrist and you are thrown to the ground, missing a shock of energy that seems to be radiating from your destructive morial. Wind is pulsing out in a miniature tornado like fashion and you can’t hear, but Who seems to be yelling at Homestuck. Holy shit, this is chaotic. If this is what he did when you died, you swear not to EVER die again.  
“What the fuck happened?” Your question is nearly lost to the sounds of battle.  
“Your morial flipping his shit, that’s what happened!” You hate it when he’s sarcastic, which is a lot.  
“Was it the update?” His eyebrows come down with a ‘are you kidding me’ look.  
“Well yeah, what does it look like he’s beating the shit out of?”  
The Update box for Homestuck has nearly reduced to pieces and shards of metal, yet you can still make out the house symbol that matches Homestuck’s shirt. If either Who or Homestuck was getting tired, they didn’t show it because it was now a battlefield of sparks and power.  
“I need to get to him.” You growl, starting an army crawl over to him. Sherlock grabs you again and tries to tug you back, but you’re not that light. And you are not going to continue watching this. Homestuck NEEDS you.  
“You’re insane.”  
“You don’t think I haven’t realized that by now?” You retort as you get away from him and to your morial. Homestuck’s incoherent screeching is now fitted with multiple words.  
KILL  
MOTHERFUCKING  
LORD ENGLISH  
DIE  
The rest sounds like static and screaming. Dr.Who is trying to talk some sense into him, but using his powers to dodge Homestuck’s shocks is his main priority. Hadn’t Homestuck mentioned this to you before? Wasn’t it called grim…something…you can’t remember. You stand, nearly knocked over again, but able to approach him on your feet. You must be insane. But he’s your morial, you can’t let this happen. You’re nearly there, and-  
Oh holy shit. You’re blasted back by unbearable pain. This is worse than anything you’ve ever imagined, like you’re being beaten to death, thrown off a cliff, and shot through the stomach while stabbed through the back a thousand times. You can’t make out any words but you certainly can scream. Sherlock yells out to you, and Who nearly drops when you stagger and almost fall. But then Homestuck turns around to look at you with those cue-ball rainbow eyes. And he just stops. Everything.  
The black around him extinguishes like a dead fire and his eyes blink and glow a few times before they are back to a regular black pupil. His horns are now smaller, like normal, and he no longer is floating or screaming. The winds stop abruptly, the objects it was picking up fall down due to gravity’s force. He doesn’t look angry, or irritated or sad. He looks downright HORRIFIED. Horrified for hurting his morial. Horrified for what he just did. The world is spinning now. He’s rushing to you, with green tears rolling down his face, and shrieking your name with a hoarse voice. He manages to be at your side just before you pass out.  
…  
Oh no. Where are you? You didn’t die again did you, because you don’t want to have that happen ever. Plus you promised yourself you wouldn’t. Then you sit up a little and your head bangs with the worst headache you’ve ever experienced, and that’s saying a lot from the morial of Homestuck. You see that any wounds that you have are mostly gone, just some scars, other than the wrap around your abdomen which has a little red seeping through it. You don’t want to look, but you weren’t lying when you felt you got shot. And it probably is that bad too.  
You’re in living quarters on a couch lined with blankets and pillows. Nobody is around…how long have you been out cold? Oh no, what if this is some alternate universe like Homestuck described? Or maybe in the future like Who’s time-travel stuff. Oh no. Oh god. This is not good.  
“What year is it?!” You shriek loudly and shoot forward, before regretting that decision. Pain fires from your toes and up your spine. This results in making you fall off the couch with a yelp-scream and face-plant because you are so wrapped up in blanket you can’t free your hands in time. Someone approaches from behind.  
“Hetalia!” You’re lifted up by your morial, who is looking shocked and freaked-out by your graceful awakening.  
“Oh hi.” He rolls his eyes and sits you on his lap. Oh man, you hope you aren’t blushing. Then he starts to flip out, looking at you with the worry of a mother to her child. Or wriggler to a…you don’t now this alien shit. As he holds grips you, you wince and squeak from your headache throbbing madly. Homestuck begins his panic.  
“Oh shit, did I hit a wound or something, fuck, this is my entire fault, and Sherlock’s been on my case for the last day about this, I am such an idiot. If I hadn’t-“  
You lean forward and curl up to his chest while winding your lanky arms around him in an embrace.  
“Shut up Homestuck.” You whisper and nudge his chin, which causes him to smile and put a hand around you.  
“Pale for you.”  
“Pale for you too.”  
You don’t have the best life, and you don’t have the best home or anything that would make you memorable throughout the years like other fandoms. But you have Homestuck, and that’s all you really want…  
~


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ((Hey people! I’m back with new writing stuff. I realized that most people liked my Fandombound/Fandomstuck writing and I realized the most of my writing fit into a story. Palest of Pals is now multiple chapters :D I actually really enjoy writing this it’s fun!  
> Anyway, back to the story, in this story-  
> Hetalia doesn’t know Homestuck’s dying, he just thinks its sickness because Homestuck can break it to him.  
> Don’t read this unless you read CHAPTER one  
> BTW~I refer to Homestuck, Doctor Who, Sherlock, Supernatural, Homestuck as guys  
> Hope you enjoy it!

Your name is the HOMESTUCK FANDOM and you keep seeing these flashing lights and colorful cue-balls in your vision.  
~  
You are the HOMESTUCK FANDOM, and you are currently being held back by your morial from potentially attacking someone or yourself in the matter. You’ve never been one to actually think in the right sense, but you have the tendency to really lose it at certain points. Other fandoms are starting to stare, the jerks that they are, but your mind is set on wailing at the top of your lungs while stringing in a few good profanities like usual. Your morial, Hetalia, is forcing you back in a tight grip and a rough shoosh-pap to the face for good measure. You can tell he is trying hard, though he hasn’t gotten the grip on your ‘weird alien love quadrants’. But, thankfully, after a multiple number of outbursts, he has gotten to know that force, cuddling and a nice pap will quiet you down for a period of time. Sanity has long ago left you, and the things that you’ve been most clingy to be Hetalia and your Dad, Hussie, who apparently has a knack for killing everyone or everything within his power. This is mostly everything. Your claw-tipped hands have sunk through your morial’s thin black shirt, and your head if snuggled into it and your refuse to withdraw from it. Your wailing has reduced to a muffled sobbing as you dig into Hetalia’s brown overcoat and proceed to crumble in his grip. It’s part of your nature to have break-downs from time to time, mostly due to the many emotions you try to bottle up. Before you and Hetalia were morials, it was ten-times worse than this, because the other fandoms didn’t seem to except you. Until now.  
You can feel your hot tears stream down your face, while Hetalia just holds you so calmly while rocking you back and forth a little.  
“Shh, Homestuck, your makeup is running. Here, sit up.”  
You’re propped up gently from the safety of his shirt and you look up so pitifully at Hetalia. His brown curled bangs sweep down over his amber-chestnut eyes that you’ve always really liked. You find yourself reduced to sniffling, and you probably look like a mess, just look at your hands, you can see the places where the gray has rubbed off. Hetalia has literally forced you into a hug, yet you don’t resist, head pressed to chest, wiping stinging tears from your eyes. A hand runs through your hair gently, and you notice the Who has crept over silently. A reddish fez sits atop a mat of mousey-brown hair, and a trailing long scarf wrapped tight around his neck. You don’t want anyone near you right now, just Hetalia, and you see he doesn’t either, causing your morial unmistakably growls at him. Wow, you’ve sure taught Hetalia a thing or two. This wards Who off his therapist-mode antics and you feel overly relived. As you cautiously glance around with a cold-hearted glare, you find that almost every fandom has (thankfully) left, so you’re free to unwind. Your muscles are stiff from being curled up so long, and you finally just rest your head on Hetalia’s. Right now, you feel really pathetic because this has been one of your worst breakdowns you can recall other than the breakdown in the Update Room.  
“It’s hard…” You trail off because your throat is as scratched as an old record, sounding a little deeper and thinner than it usually does. Then again, you do yell a lot, so your throat does hurt often.  
“It’s hard a-and nobody understands.” You fear breaking out in tears again. Hetalia is showing natural fear on his face and won’t stop petting you like a pet or something.  
“Shh, Homestuck, you’ve had a rough day. Just quite down.”  
Actually, you don’t think anyone knows why you had such a horrible outburst, but they wouldn’t understand, not even your morial, who has always been there for you. It’s just that you can’t stop seeing those horrible images in your head, and you have no idea what they are. They’re flashy colors and Lord English cue-balls, blinking and burning like an inferno. And it causes you literal pain. You can feel it through you head, and in your eyes, and run through your veins, so much pain. Fire coursing through your neon green blood like acid. Its hurts so much. It’s not helping when you’re feeling over-whelmed by all your new ‘friends’ that have happened to suddenly appear. It’s just because you’re dying…  
Not that big or anything.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rainbow-Drinkers reference ;3  
> My tumblr is: wolfdownfall.tumblr.com

Your name is the HETALIA FANDOM and it is really exhausting to watch after your morial, but you don’t mind, even after he lunges and tries to kill you.  
~  
Your name is the HETALIA FANDOM and it’s been a really long day. Currently Homestuck is passed out on the comforter, today has been one of your usual pasta-movie pale-dates. He really likes them, and you do to, but it is really exhausting. You had to take away all the salt in your kitchen for his sake because Supernatural kept throwing it in his eyes. You had to sort out every single rom-com and movie that contained Nic-Cage just so he could watch them in a row. You sat next to him as he cried through the dramatic scenes of Con-Air and Ella Enchanted. But it was so nice to have him around. You’ve drawn the curtains and made sure no light is getting through, because he really hates the light, and then quietly sit down next to him. Your free hand glides through his ruffled bangs, and he just curls in a little more and makes that adorable purring sound when he’s content. You hope he is doing okay, because recently he’s been recovering from his massive updates. After the tantrum he threw in the Update Room and nearly killed you, you both are now on a timely schedule for time together so that doesn’t happen again. Yet he already has flipped out a few times in the past two days. He’s a mess, like a drunken person trying to walk in a straight line over a tightrope high, high up. You refuse to give him that pie stuff that he likes to half-eat, half-lounge in when he’s stressed because when he stops he the spiraling goes more further downward. Instead, he has been spending most of the day with you, napping every other hour and then crying in your shoulder and trying to explain that yet another thing blew up and how the Lord of Time was out to get us all. You cringe as he flinches in his dreams and starts to paw the air, his small, yet deadly fangs protruding from his lips in a small cry of help. The nightmares are also another thing you worry about. Ever since you met him, he’s had horrible nightmares and, according to him, he always has. When something bad happens they grow worse, and when something good happens, they fade a little. But you know enough about Homestuck to know that his comic was sunshine and goodness. Pretty much the opposite. When he was first introduced to the Base he freaked out a lot whenever something relative in the comic happened. Since you’ve known him for a time, you know that he often uses important quotes, sayings or numbers that appear to relative to the comic as well. Now Homestuck’s claws are starting to dig partially into the couch and partially into you. Shit, wake up. You nudge him gently, but he just growls lowly and starts a pathetic whimper like a kicked puppy. Wake up, seriously.  
“Homestuck,” You mutter quietly, “Come on, wake up.”  
His abnormal neon green tears are starting to fall a little from his closed eyes. His breathing has shuttered into a thumping choking sound, his throat clogging up with tears. His sniffles and stifled yelps have turned to a low, long breath of a wail. You shove him harder, but even though it shakes him, he still is growing worse.  
“Homestuck! Seriously, wake up.” You can’t help but hide the trembling in your voice. You’re terrified, what the hell is going on with him. This isn’t good at all. He’s gone from sleeping to screech-crying in less than a minute. You pick up his head from where it was almost on your lap and grip his shoulders, shaking fiercely. He told you before that waking up a sleeping troll was one of the worst things you could possibly do, especially out of a bad dream, but he was freaking out pretty badly and you had no way to calm him down if he was asleep. You nearly drop him as he eyes snap open, pure bright green like his tears, blinks one time, and lunges at you, fangs bared with a loud snarl.

Son of a-  
You shriek and kick him in the stomach as he proceeds to sink his fangs into your neck, and sends him thrown to the floor before you realize that probably wasn’t the morial-like thing to do. Shit is he okay? He groans and rolls over; coughing a little before his irises shrink and a pupil expands in the middle of his eyes. Okay that’s kind of disturbing. His shoulders hunch down and he’s nearly flattened to the floor and he starts making a garbled choke sound before you realize it’s him crying. You walk up behind Homestuck. He’s crying really horribly. With his face pressed to his hands, green leaks from his palms and down his fingers. Oh no. His claws start to dig into his own skin, making small gashes, and it takes you a second to understand he’s trying to punish himself for attacking you again. He did this before after the Update Room incident and tried to throw himself at a wall before you stopped him. You kneel; shift over to his side and go to wrap a hand around his shoulders before he flinches away.  
“Homestuck. Come here.” You widen your arms in a hugging formation that he usually loves to accept. It hurts your heart to see him like this because…shit, because you care for him. Maybe you LOVE him. Though you aren’t going into a feelings jam right now, you’re trying to calm your flush-crush/psychotic morial. He shakes his head.  
“N-No.” He sniffles through his sobs. Okay you’re not putting up with this. You bend over him and embrace him whether he likes it or not. Homestuck yelps and doesn’t return it, but does rest in your lap and put his head on your shoulder. His black hair is against your face and you pet him a tad bit and place a soft kiss on his head before trying to quite him. Morials sometimes gave each other comfort kisses before, so it’s not usual, and he can’t say otherwise. He’s the expert on it after all. He goes silent in your arms. You will never judge the amount of torture that an update can do again. Then you feel him move and he looks up at you with watery eyes.  
“I don’t deserve a morial like you.” He whispers, but his voice is so hoarse it cracks twice.  
“Homestuck, we’ve been through this. You’re having an emotional week. You need to calm down, rest and watch all the rom-coms you want.” You reply, and you try to be hearty about it, but it comes out pathetically.  
“Hetalia. I hurt you-“  
“Yes you have, and I have hurt you, so we’re even.” In emphasis, you nudge his stomach which makes him look at where a bruise is probably forming. He nearly smiles. Nearly.  
“I attacked-“  
“Stop.” You shush him and tighten your grip around him in a hug before letting go. He sits there, a little unfocused and dazed on your lap, but then turns to you again. He leans forward, rocking on his knees, and closing up to you. You fight off a nasty blush as he approaches cautiously.  
“Home, what are you-“  
“Let me try something.”  
You stifle a shriek in your throat as he goes in and presses his lips to your neck where he nearly bit it open. His fangs start to sink slowly into your neck, then a little more and more keenly until he’s nearly pinned you and- wait, oh shit. Is this the rainbow-drinker shit he was referring too? That he is like half-fucking-vampire? Is that what he is doing and…oh my god.  
Oh my god.  
OH MY god.  
OH MY GOD.  
You tremble a little and fight off the urge to kiss- shove him; you mean to shove him away. You’re feeling the rush in your head and a little dizzy, probably from the fact that you are losing blood. But…you don’t mind…you think. The feeling is a little overwhelming, fuzzy headed and blushing while still scared out of your mind. Then he lingers a little before stopping, his fangs coming out with no pain, and he curls up to your chest, where he soundlessly falls asleep again. His gray skin is lit with a pale aura of shine. Homestuck is sure quite something, but he’s your morial. They are important.   
“Night.” You mummer and hold him, eyes dropping too. You remember that you felt woozy and blacked out straight after that.  
~


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> intro to Supernatural :D finally

Your name is the HOMESTUCK FANDOM and you just got punched in the face before you could do anything in your defense. You think you deserved it.  
~  
Your name is the HOMESTUCK FANDOM and you are currently flipping out and trying to find your morial before you do something bad. Where is he? Where is he? You had planned on seeing him earlier today, but he wasn’t in his block, so you waited, and came back later. He had said he had to do some things today but would be back by a particular time. He wasn’t back. Hetalia never, EVER lied to you, so something must have happened- or you’re overreacting like usual. You’ve already made it hectic enough this week, nearly killing Hetalia twice, and partially injuring a few other fandoms before he could get there to stop you. It was a lose-lose situation for you anyway. You were dying, simple enough. You couldn’t break that to him. He would lose it himself. Hetalia would defend you and care for you and always be there for you, the perfect morial, but he couldn’t protect you from this. It’s been nearly four years; did he ever consider how long you would last with you flash animation updates and time-shenanigans? He cried watching the movie Bolt, and you did get teary eyed, but he sobbed for a good two hours. Seriously, they survived in the end and it was all happy and sunshine! If he couldn’t stand for that he’d probably be ripped to pieces if he knew you aren’t gonna be around anymore. But on the scale, you were the one that needed more therapy. And this week has been very stressful so hold your fucking hoof-beasts because you are going to breakdown for the fourth time. In the last three days. You sadly, yet clearly remember the day Hetalia died. And fuck, you lost your shit when that happened. When it happened, you went into rage mode, and murdered. You. Fucking. Murdered. You don’t like to remember that part, but you’re glad that they didn’t kick you out of the Fandom Base. That would have screwed up everything. You never filled in Hetalia about what happened when he died, but he has probably heard enough rumors to get it. But it’s not an easy subject, for you or for him, so it is never spoken of. You may sound like you’re actually tracking Hetalia, but really you’re just wandering aimlessly in a panic of knotted hair and tear-stained shirt. You rush past Adventure Time, who waves a quick hello to you, and you grin and wave back, and then continue on. It’s obvious she likes you, and being truthful, she’s cute too. But you’re to sidetracked right now for feelings jams or quadrant emotions, you need to find your morial. Where is he? Making you way down another hall you spot a familiar brown-haired guy with large charcoal wings. You try to pass Supernatural quickly, but don’t make it in time, and he grabs your shoulder and drags you over to him. You struggle to shove him away.  
“Fuck off!” You snarl, trying to kick him as he grips tighter and slaps a hand over your mouth.  
“Shut up for a second.” He hisses and you close your eyes for a second, waiting for him to throw salt or ‘holy water’ at you. You pause for a moment, and then struggle again before he growls again.  
“Let me go-“He kisses you and you stop. His teeth bite your lip and you fang his before hissing and shoving him over, spitting green blood and rubbing it off. You can nearly feel the spades dancing in your eyes, and a warm pale jade blush just happens to come over your cheeks. He grins cheekily and you laugh, playfully swatting him as he wraps an arm around you. Wait no- shit. This is not time for hate-make outs, but… you really wouldn’t mind. No. You’re looking for Hetalia.  
“Now is not the time Nat.” You shake your head and glower at him.  
“Why not?” He grumbles in the back of his throat while leaning up to hold you, but in a rough manner, not like an actual hug. Kismesisship wasn’t something to take lightly, and you both knew that, and were pretty awesome at it, you believe. You suddenly feel as rush and spark up your spine and you yelp and flinch away from Supernatural.  
“What?” He grins with a smug look. You shudder, but he moves forward again before you can say anything in defense. His one hand bumps the base of your horn.  
“D-Don’t touch my horns-graahh-“You squeak, but he just chuckles and refuses to let go of them. You’re starting to panic so with a loud bark-like snarl, you turn and whip out a fist, clocking him straight in the cheek. Supernatural, taken off guard, falls over with a gasp and then narrows his eyes, in a dark look. He is an asshole sometimes, so he deserved that, really.  
“Don’t. Touch. My. Horns.” You grumble once more before walking away quickly before he could pounce on you from behind. This wouldn’t be the first time he has. You make your way through a few hallways before controlling your breathing and shaking the feeling that you got in your horns. Oh my god, this is why you won’t let anyone touch them. It feels like someone lit a firecracker in your stomach. You really don’t want to think about it. You round one more corner and nearly smack into someone who was running down the hallway, but they trip and stumble and catch onto your shoulder. It takes you a second to realize its Hetalia.  
He grips onto your shoulder, and he’s…is he crying? Oh hell no.   
“Hetalia. Dude, calm down.” You pet his head and pap him on the cheek gently, with a soft shush. What would make him this freaked out? But as you watch, a few shadowy figures emerge from the end of the hallway. You really can’t tell which, but they seem like some forgotten fandoms, those kinds that try to draw attention by hurting someone else. You never thought it would really happen, but you’re proven wrong when you see that Hetalia looks so terrified right now. He can hear them getting closer and your morial is just sinking closer to you. His colorless tears are still on his face.  
“You guys better back the fuck off my morial or you’ll be in for a ride through fucking hell.” You snap at them, hissing in a menacing way. You can make out their forms, moving quietly and angered through the shadows. And you feel and lot of pain when one gets you straight in the face.  
“You motherfuckers!” You yell, pain raging through you veins. Is this really happening again? Are you seriously going to grim-dark for this? If it is for Hetalia, you would do anything for him if he was in danger. Hell, he didn’t even have to be in danger for you to help him. He’s your morial. And they’re important. You could blindly see Hetalia behind you because he had curled into a fetal position, not even trying to stop you from losing your shit. He was noticeably trembling, his large brown overcoat burying him down, but you could tell he was still crying. The fandoms are really, really old, as you can tell. They are pale, see-through and their faces are worn away so you can’t tell what they used to be. These are the kind of fandoms that have been around since the TV was made, and only a few people remember them today. You hate them officially, the sick jerks that they are. Then you look up and see what really got Hetalia freaked out. Oh my god, did they seriously…you’re going to kill them. You. Freaking. Lose it. Ever since you’ve known Hetalia you know that no one, NOBODY, messed with his little swirl-curl. He wouldn’t explain why, it’s kinda like him trademark thing you suspect, but he flipped out when someone hurt it before so you know it’s not something to take lightly. You do not hurt someone’s morial without getting into a load of trouble. Especially with you. While in attack mode, you can barely make out of who you are punching or smacking upside with the War-Hammer of Zillyhoo that you withdrew from your sylladex. This is a different situation that the Update Room, this was about hurting someone you cared for, not blowing up something or Lord English taking over the world. No it’s not about that. Since you have gone into rage mode, your eyes are unfocused, unclear and fogged, probably dripping black too, because grim-dark sometimes do that. You don’t have to look at your hands or feet to tell they are on black fire, frisking around your whole body. You don’t even have to know what you’re saying to tell that it’s partially grim-god words, profanities and screeching at the top of your lungs how they will NEVER ever mess with you two again. You go and raise you hammer to a fandom that has learned his lesson, but this will be his last. You have to motherfucking KILL anyone who stands in your MOTHERFUCKING way.   
“Homestuck! Don’t do it!” Hetalia is starting to unfreeze and is trying to reason with you. Oh no.  
“These motherfuckers deserve this!” You scream, and you wonder if he can make it out, or if you switched to Alternian. That happens sometimes when you get really pissed off.  
“Don’t do it! Homestuck, killing isn’t right!”  
Your hand doesn’t budge from its grip on the handle. You really don’t think it is you talking anymore. You should have taken control of this before, MOTHER OF FU-  
You are slammed to the ground by a powerful blow, and the hammer falls from your grips and you are swept to the ground. A figure stands over you, and he then punches one of the other fandoms and picks up in his arms. You can hear them fleeing by the race of their footsteps fading and also by their screeching. You begin to flail and you feel him hold you a little easier, maneuvering you so you’re not in pain. He kisses you cheek and you just rest you head against his chest.  
“Thanks.” You mutter.  
“What is that black demon quadrant of hate-love for?” Supernatural replies with a smile, his eyes aglow. Hetalia wobbles to you and takes you from his grip with enough force to show that he wasn’t sharing you for the moment, and hugs you hard enough to crack a few ribs. His hair is pretty much all in your face and his crooked, wobbly curl is starting to retake it’s shape. You grin and hold him, then look up.  
“Where the fuck where you?”  
“Looking for you.” He says in a matter-of-fact tone, not finished hugging you yet. Afterwards he drags you back to his place where Supernatural keeps his distance by resting on the arm-rest of the kitchen chair while you calmed down.  
“Do you always do this demon magic shit?”  
“Not always.” You don’t respond to the demon part, laying your head back and closing your eyes. Maybe you’ll ask Hetalia for a rag or something to put over you face. Supernatural goes silent, and then moves to run a hand through your hair. His crystal blue eyes glitter as they meet yours.  
“So, when are you gonna tell Hetalia?” You now he’s referring to your death. He knows of course.  
“Not yet. I may not even tell him.” You begin to click your fangs together, and you feel a hint of satisfactory every time your kismesis flinches at the sound.  
“You should.” He crosses his arms, but doesn’t say anything else. Neither of you are in the mood for a good fight nor angry lecture.  
“Yeah. I know.”  
~


	5. Chapter 5

Your name is the HETALIA FANDOM and you really hate it when you wake up in the morning and come out to find Supernatural and Homestuck hate-making-out on your couch. This is the second time in the two days, like seriously.

Your name is the HETALIA FANDOM and they are so fucking disgusting. Oh my god, wont they just go somewhere private or something? This is the second day in a row you’ve caught Supernatural and Homestuck making-out on your couch. Like seriously, you aren’t really okay or understanding of the whole ‘kismesis’ shit or black romance or whatever the hell it was, and you don’t enjoy getting up in the morning to find them kissing. Maybe you’re just jealous, but you’d rather be torn in two then say that out loud. You hate how when you’re with Homestuck and you pass Supernatural his face lights up with a green blush that you find oddly adorable, yet you hate it’s directed toward him! You don’t understand how this is a relationship, love is the opposite of hate, and so they love-hate one another. Wait…they hate each other so much that they love each other? Or is it the other way around? You admit, you like troll quadrants, because it lets you be his morial, but sometimes they just don’t make any fucking sense. You are glad that Homestuck is finally being able to weigh the pressure off his shoulders, he seems to be doing better, which is a good sign…right? You realize that as you held the milk to pour some cereal, the milk wasn’t going in the bowl; you were pouring it straight into the box. Oh what the hell, you grab a spoon and eat from it, watching them with an impassive face from afar, mildly chewing your Cheerios to dust. They remind you of two bitchy school girls who are way too aggressive with their partner. This is it yet five times worse. Self-loathing is coming into play and you start to wonder why you couldn’t manage Homestuck in a love quadrant. Was it because he couldn’t see you in that way, or ever love you like that? Was it because he was stressed-depressed due to the heaviness of the updates? Or was it just YOU? As you look back on what just happened two days ago, Homestuck saved you, and then went grim-dark again and lost his shit before Supernatural came in and punched him in the face. And when he kissed him, you swear to god you would’ve liked to punch Supernatural. Don’t touch him, he’s yours, and will always be. You hear a sound, and you watch with a grin as Supernatural flinches and pulls, bleeding because of a fang mark in his lower lip. Homestuck’s laughing like crazy, his face turning green and rolling over, nearly falling off the comforter. You nearly laugh yourself, but you really don’t feel in the mood to do so. You watch as they end up curling next to one another, and they’re silent, which is astonishing because Homestuck can always have a mouthful of ready per second, not including all the profanities he can lay out. You rub your eyes in sleep, watching them warily, but too tired to do anything but get up, and leave when you’ve finished. This is really irritating, and if Homestuck is gonna relies on Supernatural for right now, you might as well do something else for a change. You’ve not thought much about it. You don’t care if they hear the door slam as you exit your apartment, because right now it doesn’t even feel like yours. Technically you wouldn’t mind if Homestuck was over, but you don’t like to have his feathered kismesis over for a kiss session. No. You march out as if you actually plan on doing something, but you have no idea. You thought you may have heard Homestuck call your name. Your pace begins to quicken as your emotions do. Oh my god, you’re going to flip out in front of everyone, you need to find a hiding place, quickly, NOW. You end up finding yourself at Sherlock’s front door. The hinges creak as it opens, and he stands with his baby-blue rope and a newspaper in his hand, clearly not ready for the day. When he sees your face, he just rolls his eyes. He can tell that you’re about to breakdown as he ushers you in his apartment with a sigh, and you’re soon face-down on his coffee table crying.  
“I just d-don’t understand…” You sniffle as he hands you a mug of hot chocolate.  
“You’ve finally snapped, huh?” Sherlock’s grin is smug, and you slap your hand on the table dramatically.  
“No! I haven’t- wait...what do you mean?”   
“You’ve snapped from Supernatural taking all of Homestuck’s attention.” He replies evenly, stirring in his sugar in his dark drink with a spoon. You sip from yours for a second and pause, trying to mark out your reply carefully.  
“Well-“  
“Also that your flushed for him.”  
You spit your drink out and hiss at him. Your tongue burning now and you stand up so fast; your chair falls backward as you flip him kindly with your middle finger. He just looks really amused.  
“Fuck you; I’m not flushed for him!” You shriek, but your voice cracks and goes up an octave. Shit. It’s not that obvious- you mean, Sherlock just…flustered you. Flustered you with a weird, inappropriate question because, hah, you couldn’t…be in love…with your……..morial.  
Fuck.

…

“Are you gonna come out?”  
You mumble something incoherent to him from you head shoved between your knees. This method of calming and relaxing your frazzled nerves is not helping, but you still don’t want Sherlock to rub this in your face so you hide it. Sherlock isn’t the person you wouldn’t believe to rub this in your face, but still, you are unsure of what to do, so hiding is the key. But to him, it’s probably stupid seeing you curled in the corner near the pantry.  
“Hetalia, this is pathetic.” He rubs his eyes with a hand and sighs as he leans over to get your attention.  
“Let me lie here in peace.”  
“It’s not very peaceful when you’re crying.”  
You don’t respond, because right now you are wrapped up in your own little world of ‘hey leave me alone, I’m in need of a serious therapist session and a hug’. He tips his mug to the side, swishing his coffee in it.  
“Why don’t you talk to him?”  
“Because he’s my morial! Seriously, that’s not how things work!”  
“Then how do things work?” He raises an eyebrow and you groan and roll over. This is not going to work; he’s always going to figure out some smart-ass reply. This isn’t fair.  
Nothing is ever fair.  
Life is hard.  
It’s hard and nobody understands. Other than Homestuck. Your pretty sure he understands, but not in the right way.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> New chapter and nearing the end of this whole story! Hope you enjoy!  
> ~ GW

Your name is the HOMESTUCK FANDOM and you feel really bad. Not in a sick way, or an ‘oh no new update’ way, but in an ‘I’m about to run off to die without telling my morial because I just thought of how I could survive’ way. And it’s really bad. You love Hetalia in the most platonic pale-colored fashion. He was the Prospit to your Derse. Or the Nicolas Cage to your Vriska. Yep, very, very good relationships. Supernatural isn’t really looking forward to this either, but he just shrugged a shoulder and then threw a handful of salt in your eyes. Yep, very good relationships, you are 100 percent sure of this. Well, no exactly but you had no part in your death wish whatsoever. If it was your choice, you’d be immortal.  
According to Sherlock, Hetalia just needed a break away from his own place to get out for a bit. This sounded pretty reasonable, since he has been dealing with your feelings-jams for the last week and a half. It’s kinda suspicious how he just went off like that, but you can’t say much against him. He’s had a long week, longer than yours and your tantrums. He seemed a little angry when he stormed out the door the other day, and you called out his name, but he was already gone. Shit. Was he mad at you? You didn’t know where he had gone anyway, and Supernatural had convinced you to not go on another searching fiasco like the other day. That’s respectable; you have gone grim-dark twice this week. That’s a record, don’t need to set another. It’s okay that he is taking time off, but at Sherlock’s? You didn’t really know that they were friends. Maybe just in your circle of fandoms, but….  
Hmm. Something off. And you can tell. It wasn’t anything surprising really. Or maybe it was, your feelings have gone soaring and you’ve lost track of them. But you can feel that another update is going to happen soon and it’s not good. Supernatural is lying down on the comforter, blowing multiple puffs of smoke into the air at once. You cough on the fumes and sigh, leaning down next to him while you see his hand slip to grab his lighter in his right pocket.  
“When are you leaving?” You watch as he tries not to portray his worry.  
“Now.” He sits up quickly, making you jolt back as you’re hit in the face with a black, feathery wing.  
“Now? What do you mean, aren’t you going to tell Hetalia?”  
“No.”  
“He’s going to be heartbroken.” This makes you pause. You don’t want to hurt Hetalia but you may have figured out a way to loophole around this dreadful end. And if you succeeded it may help everyone. What you have decided can change everything. It can change OTHER fandoms, which is very, very important, because a wrong move can screw up a lot. But a good move could do so much more. This means a lot to you…but if it ends up badly, or in that case, you officially dying, Hetalia would be shattered either way. Should you find him now? Or would that make it worse? It would probably make it worse, because, truthfully, you can breakdown REALLY easily. As if no one hasn’t noticed that anyway…  
“Homestuck.” A warm hand wraps around your shoulders, being pulled into a hug. You get engulfed in black feathers and leathery coat, but it’s reliving and sad. For the first time, his eyes are brimming and he doesn’t want you to go. Supernatural doesn’t want you to run off to your somewhat death wish. He cares. He really CARES.  
“It’ll be alright, I j-just…I’ll come back and everything w-will be okay-“  
Your throat beginning to constrict, you realize it’s no use to be fighting the hurt. Your ragged-like claws start to gouge the fabric of his shirt, but you both are too upset to react. Sometimes you two have these moments where it seems like you just flipped into the red-quadrant before flipping back to black. Truthfully, your kismesiship hasn’t been as rough and aggressive as a usual one, due to the fact that him being partially human with only friendship and love as quadrants. He still may not have adapted enough for the quadrants, but it was enough. You cared too much about one another to be angry all the time. You care. You REALLY care. And he does too. You just wish things could stay this way, and you wouldn’t have to run off with this weighing on your shoulders. That you could actually have the chance to live a NORMAL fandom life, but yet again, since when are you NORMAL? Even though you haven’t really had many emotions other than for your characters, this really shook you. Badly. You can barely make out your surroundings anymore; they’re so dark and so empty. You are startled when your kismesis starts to speak again, in a grief-stricken tone.  
“Don’t leave.”  
“I h-have too.” You’re as pitiful as a little wriggler, but you can’t seem to pull yourself together. Not yet. Or at least not right now.  
…  
“No.”  
“I can really help you!”  
“No, you’d make it worse!” You hiss as you throw off the Doctor. He glares and leaves it at that, hunching down to play with his scarf. Supernatural is just watching warily, but smirking as he watches the Doctor trying to smooth out his bedraggled hair. You feel a little bad at the puppy-dog face he’s making so you grudgingly sigh and lean down, putting a hand on his shoulder.  
“Listen, I’m sorry. It’s just…not easy for me.” Going God-Tier isn’t an easy thing to take in. He probably has no idea what it is, but the moment an adventure came into play, he was nearly begging to go. The Doctor gives you a thirteen second stare before grasping your hand and shaking it.  
“I understand, love. You’re a good man, Home. Do us a favor and come back alive, please. It’d be lonely here without you.” You rush off before you can burst into tears again. You are too fast for Supernatural to catch up thankfully, so you make your way and just proceed to crouch down in the middle of a dark hallway and shatter. Your head rests in your hands, knees pulled up to your chest, and you look at your skin, which has a pale aurora around it. You have to wipe and blink your eyes multiple times before you stop the tears, and work on controlling the trembling of your breath. It’s no use, shuddering like a hurricane wind to a loose window. You really hope that Supernatural will give those notes to Hetalia because those things explained everything that was happening. Your heart is pounding loudly, thrumming your rib-cage and you have to sigh about this situation. To be truthful, you didn’t realize how hard this would be. You have faced many character deaths before, so the end wouldn’t be much…or that’s what you thought. If it was this hard to talk to the other fandoms that you didn’t know as well, you know it would have been ten times harder if you had to tell Hetalia.  
And that’s why you didn’t. Morials are important, but protecting one is even more. And if you happen to make it back alive you have to remind him the good fandoms don’t die. 

They go GOD-TIER.

~


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not sorry and am extending this story because i love it so ~ :3

You name is the HETALIA FANDOM and you open the door to your apartment nosily, sighing and your shoulders sagging. You meet a black-winged man as you throw it open. His whiskers are cut to short little stubs on his chin and he watches you with icy-blue eyes that always unnerved you.  
“Where’s Homestuck?” You ask as you throw you keys to the table upfront. You stoop over and rest against the side of the comforter.  
“He left.” Supernatural replies evenly, lighting a new cigar in his hand, and then shaking out the flame on the lighter swiftly. A wisp of gray smoke catches up into the air. You hope that doesn’t make the smoke detector go off because it would make the sprinkler system go off. And it wouldn’t be the first time.  
“Where?” You are curious about where your morial went, but so tired after Sherlock’s long, planned-out lecture that you couldn’t care less. For the moment, anyways.  
“Here, he wanted me to give these to you. Don’t know what the hell they are, but he said they’re important and will explain everything.”  
You look up feeling really uneasy now. This didn’t sound…right. Supernatural flips out two letters in his hands and places them in your shaking fingers. He proceeds to go over and sit on the arm-rest, peering over your shoulder. You open one and it’s… a picture. A picture of you and Homestuck. It’s from the time you guys met for real and spent time at his place. You both look younger, his hair a little shaggier and his eyes less aglow than they are now while your hair is neater and your jacket is nicer than its beat-up form currently. He’s laughing and holding what looks like another Rom-Com, probably something with Nic Cage or Liv Tyler in it. You do recall this was your first movie ‘bro-date’ you had together. And it was awesome, to say the least. These were the days when no one interfered with Homestuck and you could both spend as much time as you wanted together, and it was some of the best memories ever. Aside from the constant name-calling and bullying, but that’s…in the past. You then jolt, and turn to glance at the other letter. You unfold it, and read Homestuck’s dark print hand-writing:

 

 _ **Dear Hetalia Fandom,**_  
 _ **I am ending. And it’s very important I may have figured out a way to stop dying, and my last update is approaching. I hope I can make it back to see you again, but it may not be for a while, it depends. I’ll miss you! Hopefully I won’t be gone for long. Love you buddy.**_  
 _ **Your morial and best friend,**_  
 _ **The Homestuck Fandom**_  
 

Wait. He what… It’s going to be his LAST what?  
“He’s…”  
“Dying. Yeah, he didn’t wanna tell you.” Supernatural takes another puff, leaning back on the sofa. You whip out a fist and grab his collar. He chokes and drops the cigarette in shock. You’re already starting to hyperventilate. No, no, NO, NO.  
“Where the fuck did he go?”  
“He said a, of what was it- oh yeah, God-Tier Bed or something.”  
“Oh my god.”  
He doesn’t have time to respond as you rush out the door with a loud slam, tears already beginning to come down your face. Oh no, this isn’t happening. You know where he went and you’re on his trail. You have to rush or you’ll be too…late…NO. He is not going to die; you’re going to stop him before this happens. He can’t die, he’s your morial and they’re really important. And you also love him. A lot.

~  
Run, you’ve got to keep running. The door slams open as you kick it and you stumble inside. Oh no, are you too late? Yes you’re too late. Where, oh my god is... is he…? No, he wouldn’t have left without you. He would never do something like that-  
But he is…He’s gone. Homestuck is …gone. He’s dead. And you couldn’t stop it. There is a bed in the middle of the dark black room, having a pale glow of green color around it, a fading aurora that was the same color as Homestuck’s symbol.  
This is…was his God Tier bed you believe. This really couldn’t be it, because Homestuck wouldn’t die without telling you. Or do any of this. But he just did. Oh this can’t be the end, oh no, oh my god no.  
“Homestuck! Where’d y-you…where’d you go…?” You trail off, you voice starting to mix with chokes and thick tears. This can’t be happening. This CAN’T be happening. No, no, NO, NO.  
Nobody can stop you from the massive breakdown you are about to have. This results in you sobbing at the edge platform of the huge rock-like bed in the center of the dark shadows. It makes it worse when you find your hands covered in green blood and you shriek and fall backward, crying even harder. It’s all over your hands, speckled on your jacket and probably in your hair.  
You just want to die right now. You just want to wake up because you want this to the worst nightmare you have ever had. Yet it’s NOT. You were so stupid to leave him alone in his time of despair. How did you NOT realize he was dying with his current updates, gaunt looking face and extreme breakdowns? HOW? You will never forgive yourself; you will never, ever, ever forgive yourself for being too late.  
You sobbing is now just a bunch of mixed ‘I am so sorry’ and ‘I love you so much, why did you have to leave me’. You are finding yourself in the situation where you could cry out and tell how much you loved him beneath it all. Because you DO love him. His god-tier bed is bloodied a lot, but you can make out the symbol of him; a neon green colored house shape made out of five squares and a triangular roof.  
The whole rock bed seems to glow faintly with a quiet, calming aurora. You don’t know how long you’ve been sitting here and wailing at the top of your lungs but it must have been a while because you nearly pass out. Vision spinning and blurry, you rest on the edge of the bed, feet dangling over, still crying. You bring you knees up to your chest.  
You wish you had died. You would’ve taken his place if you could’ve.  
But you couldn’t because you are a fail of a morial. You are now only a half because Homestuck was your whole. He was your heart and he was your soul. Okay, no, so now you’re going to go try to kill yourself because you can’t live this way.

A life without him is no life at all, you’d rather die. So that’s what you do.  
~


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> you guys are gonna hate me for this chapter :3  
> enjoy ~ GW  
> btw i love comments!!!

Your name is the HOMESTUCK FANDOM and you woke up to a lot of pain. Everything hurts. You sit up and cringe as you feel a new pair of wings. Ow. You rub your head, shaking a little, but can find the strength to pull yourself up. The room is dark, and you’re somewhere different than before, yet your blood is still on your hands. Gross. You try to wipe it off, but there’s so much you just snort and stop trying. Your feet are like jelly and you have to catch yourself before you fall.

It takes about five minutes to make your way to the doorway that seems so far. You make your way out, stumbling like a cat with tape on its paws. Then you realize. You survived. YOU survived. YOU freaking SURVIVED. You did it. Oh my god. This is resulting in you beginning to flip out, squealing like an idiot. You’re alive and you successfully made it to god-tier and killed yourself…and…

Oh. Hetalia. Ohhhhhhhhh no. Is he going to be mad or something? Shit, you probably freaked him out really badly. You’re such a horrible morial sometimes. Your wings flutter from out behind, and you notice the pattern on them, swirled designs of all the characters, your precious characters. Oh yes. It doesn’t hurt as much when you repeat the movement of flittering. You can’t stop smiling even though you technically just died.

Running a hand through you bangs, you groan as neon is all over them once more. You probably look like a wreck, but screw that, you have to go tell everyone you didn’t die! You are really proud of yourself, so even after Dad stops updating you can hang around with the other fandoms. Making way down a dark corridor, you finally stop to notice that your phone has been beeping and buzzing the whole time. You pull it out and are shocked by the tons of messages you received.

 

- _ **supernatualFandom** _ [SF] began pestering _**homestuckFandom** _ [HF] at 17:23 pm-

**SF: are you serious?**

**SF: did you seriously just die?**

**SF: are you dead?**

**SF: hello?**

**SF: ARE YOU F*c9ing DEAD?**

**SF: so you’re dead?**

**SF: oh my god**

**SF: if you are alive come quick you[wjduwuwuwuwasdfgghjkkkkkw8383737hhhh’;ll,,,,asddddddddggg**

**SF: jshfkiowbbbbbbbxmsksiwiwiwiwiwoooo998887777777777777777777777, <<<<<ll’s;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;sijijiekllnsgohnsgioeie888edubydyiaiaaaaaaaafffssssgjhhjffffff;;;;**

**SF: oiHOAFH8h79h9H9H413413413413JJJJJJJAIOAOOAOOANB >>>>>iiwu33;;;;;;;;d.,**

What are you looking at? What did Supernatural just do? And what is this supposed to mean? Yeah you’re alive and he wants you to come…quick… What did you miss? Oh look more messages.

- _ **doctorwhoFandom** _ [DF] began pestering _**homestuckFandom** _ [HF] at 17:40 pm-

**DF: Hello**

**DF: So um**

**DF: You may wanna come back to base**

**DF: As quick as possible**

**DF: Like right now**

**DF: oh no**

- _ **doctorwhoFandom** _ [DF] ceased pestering _**homestuckFandom** _ [HF] at 17:40 pm-

 

Now you’re feeling really uneasy about this. What is going on and what happened? You check the time and curse- its 19:27 pm, almost two hours late for whatever happened. It took so long because this is the first time a fandom has ever tried this. But at least you’re alive. You missed 16 phone calls, got 64 text messages and 3 emails. Seriously, what’s so important?

As you make your way back to base, the light is growing and you start to shield yourself since you’re partially nocturnal. The light doesn’t exactly hurt, but it can sting. You stop when you see blood at the end of the hallway. It’s only a little…so that’s okay…right?

You turn into the next hallway, a left because you are remembering the path to your apartment. Left turn, right here, another right, past that door, through this hallway…yes you’re pretty sure you know where you are going. You step down a passage and nearly trip due to…

Oh no, oh my god no. There is blood everywhere, freaking everywhere. You nearly shriek, frantically rushing out of the place, trying to rid the sight from your head and-

More. More blood. Oh my god, what the happened? You start lose it, your breath quickening and eyes darting across the red that’s staining the walls and floor. No. no. NO.

This is horrifying. Worse than anything you could possibly imagine. You don’t know what happened, but it seems like it came from a horror movie. Your wings have folded back in uncertainty. You hear your heart pounding in your ears, your focus starting to scramble while you regain yourself. You were gone for almost one day and this happens. Another hallway and there, your door is in sight! You rush forward, not surprised it’s unlocked and-

“Holy-“

You DID NOT expect this .Supernatural is trying to hold down some writhing figure. He’s screaming at the top of his lungs, and Doctor Who is looking straggled against the bathroom doorframe. Sherlock is trying to help your kismesis, but he seems really badly hurt, bleeding from his head. All whip up to look at you and Supernatural loses his grip. The figure kicks out from underneath him and he yelps, falling backwards. Sherlock gets a hard punch that knocks him out.  You’re starting to freak when the Doctor tackles you, as a something bursts an inch from your head and knocks down the whole wall of the apartment. From the Doctor’s face, you can tell he’s been crying and hurt. He has gashes and wounds everywhere and his striped scarf is clotted in scarlet. Before you two can stand, the person grabs you, hands around your throat. You shriek in protest before looking at your attacker. And OH GOD NO-

Hetalia.

His eyes are pure black with creepy red pupils. What happened? What HAPPENED? You feel like you’re going to cry yourself. Why did this happen? What is going on? Everything is spinning- you can’t breathe. Let go, LET GO. Now you are crying, green tears blinding your vision.

“Hetalia what are-“

You choke off, as you are suddenly kissing him. You scream, trying to kick him away, but it’s no use. You are in official panic mode, but he then throws you down and your wings hurt. Oh god, THEY HURT.

MAKE IT STOP. **MAKE IT STOP**. _**MAKEITSTOPMAKEITSTOP.**_

It takes you about a minute to realize one wing has completely snapped. It’s torn and green is everywhere. You are so scared, what is going on, did you do this to him? Oh no, you did do this to him, you must’ve because he was fine…before…

You left. Oh no. The pain is starting to get to your head and your vision blacks out.

…

You wake to the sound of beeping. You lift up to see tons of monitors strapped up to you. You make a snarly groan as the ache is starting to register in your back. There goes one wing. You try to move the other one, but it hurts so much you don’t even try. The heart-tracker next to you starts to increase until it’s wailing an ear-piercing beep. This isn’t good. You begin to spaz right there in the hospital bed, a soft choking screech being your only announcement that you woke up. Oh no, where are you, what is this, why is everything RED? The door slams open and Hetalia stumbles in, rushing to your bedside, causing you to freak out even more.

“Homestuck! Listen to me, I-“

A few others come in and pull him back. He screams in protest and is eventually pulled out the door while some medics in white try to calm you and set the monitors correct again. They probably gave you some medicine because you are drowsy again, vision blurring into one massive image. You speech in garbled into muttering and soon nothing, you just stop and start staring at the blank ceiling. Why are colors coming out of the ceiling? Why is everything spinning? You’re soon laughing like crazy, because everything is colorful and there are puppy-dogs and kitty-cats and rainbows everywhere! You pet a few a start to talk to them. They’re really nice listeners. Everything is much happier and better. Wow. The world is beautiful. What is going on? You wish your friends would be as nice as them. Except…wait…

You can’t remember anything right now. You can’t remember.

WHY CAN’T YOU REMEMBER? What is your name, what’s going on, what is happening? You soon have a breakdown where you are forced back by medics.

Your name is something you can’t remember and you can’t stop crying.

~


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're starting to piece the shattered picture back together. Even if that calls for lots of super glue and duck tape :3 
> 
> Enjoy the chapter and btw I LOVE comments, so thanks! I really appriciate all the support, espcially from Lucy!!! :D   
> ~ GW

Your name is the HETALIA FANDOM and you have been having the worse day of your life. 

There are no exceptions to this whatsoever. You had just finished cleaning all the blood off your hands, being ripped away from your best friend and taken to the ‘silent section’ of the recovery part in the Fandom Hospital. You didn’t mean for any of this to happen. Why did you let this happen? Now Homestuck hurt, Doctor Who is hurt, Supernatural is hurt, Sherlock is hurt... it’s your entire fault. You are such an idiot; you had to lose it, didn't you?

When you were finally out of it, the guilt was so horrible you were able to break away from your restraints and make it to Homestuck's room without being stopped. And then they dragged you back. He was starting to flip out when he saw you, and you can't erase his expression from your mind. He was HORRIFED. He was so scared of you; he was on the edge of sanity himself. But you just had to go and go all dark on everyone.

You had come back from your morial’s god-tier bed, frightened and sobbing. When you went to grab a bottle of sleeping pills or something like that, you started to flip out. Supernatural had been in your home to, so when you started to lose it, he tried to comfort you. Then you grabbed a knife and nearly slashed his throat. Why do you have such sharp objects in the kitchen anyway, pasta doesn't need knives.

You both started a fight that neither of you gave up. Sherlock had come over to see how you were doing and saw...whatever happened to you. He got Doctor Who, who happened to have a place close to yours. You went into rage mode. This was worse than anything Homestuck has done in the past. And when he came in, you didn't go back to your normal self. You didn't change. You didn't STOP fighting. Another part of you, something that has been buried for a long-time, that you had never uncovered, broke open. A side you had never seen.   
You mental stability had snapped into pieces.  
At the end, the Doctor got you with something, and you remember waking up to the hospital. But it wasn't a normal hospital setting, it was pure white, and...Oh no you're in the quiet room. The place where fandoms that flip out go. You're pretty sure Homestuck may have had his time shared in here, like after you died, but this is a different scenario. Everything resulted in Supernatural have three broken ribs and his left arm, Sherlock having stitches and being out for a whole day, the Doctor having therapy and stitches and Homestuck...losing one of his brand new wings, the brink of insanity, and a fractured arm and leg. The pain was that bad that he had to be taken immediately but he still hurt his head a lot. 

The medics won't tell you the details, but it’s bad.

This wasn’t even part of it. You can’t think straight, your eyes sight is blurry and you keep hearing voices now, isn’t that fun. You didn’t snap out of it for a while. As a matter of fact, you don’t even remember how you went into your spree; you just remember trying to fight off a horrible darkness inside you. And that you were harming your friends.   
Good job Hetalia, way to go and make friends by slitting their necks. When you woke, you thought it was the worst nightmare you had ever had…except you were in a hospital bed with tons of wounds. And blood, lots and lots of blood…  
So you don’t know if this darkness is going to stay with you or what. You just fear that it may happen again, and if it does…you can’t be positive on the outcome of it. You can’t just flip out though like that, because you aren’t in control of your actions anymore…  
You are crying again. You didn’t mean for this to happen. You are so sorry. You are SO SORRY. You didn't want this to happen. Why? WHY? WHY?  
The door opens with a crack and a bleary eyed man stands in the frame of it. His two black wings have folded aggressively behind him. He comes forward and just sits by you as you wail pathetically, not even bothering to look in his direction. Supernatural heaves a sigh noisily and waits till you've reduced to a small sobbing.

"You okay?"  
You glare up at him. He gives a fraction of a smug grin and shrugs.  
"We took out everything in the kitchen that could be potentially harmful." You put your head back in your hands. He ends up frowning, waiting for a reply, blue eyes searching yours.  
"Everyone is getting better. Sherlock was released today."  
You don't move. You don’t even breathe. In the fashion of ‘Hello, just gonna die by holding my breath immaturely because I am a psychopath that tried to kill his friends’ kind of way.  
"Hetalia." He barks loudly, causing you to flinch and peek at him with wide eyes.  
"Don't be like this."  
Your voice closes up, "B-But I d-did a-"  
"I don't care what you did, I was upset too. Now Homestuck is scared, and he's sad, the medics had to put him on some amnesia medicine to make him stop screaming out all out names. It'll wear off in about a day or two, but he is lost. He just came back from a death sentence to this. When he's better, we'll all get together and hang out and watch those horrible movies you two like. But now is the time to apologize."

You’re shocked by Supernatural's words. He cares. HE really CARES. He is just glad everyone is alright, not that you tried to cut open his throat with a sharp blade. You feel a little better, but not too much. Something will go wrong, you know it. You hunch down in your seat. You move a little uncomfortably as he moved closer.

“You should try to at least see him because the Doctor has been flipping out and protesting about this whole thing. That and Star Whales…which I don’t understand what that is about. He’s the worse out of all of us I think, mentally wise.” He tries for a laugh but you just shrink into a little ball. He coughs and lowers his gaze to the floor as you fumble away.  
“You’re not getting out of this.”  
“I am if the medics think I’m insane.”  
“We already know that. Now shut up, and come with me.” You hesitate, wariness in your eyes. This was the guy that you just tried to kill. Whatever. You slowly get up, trying to ignore the burn of wounds and head along with him. He seems very tense, looking around for a hidden enemy lurking in the corner prepared to pounce.  
This is your entire fault. It doesn’t take long for him to freeze when he reaches a blank door marked 612 on it. A loud scream and crash sounds from inside.

“Yep, Homestuck’s room for sure.” He says quietly, beginning to turn the doorknob. You stop him before the door can open.  
“Is this safe?” You question in a weak voice. He waves you off, grinning stupidly, his black feathers puffed out behind him, and then dusting off his large overcoat.   
“Of course, Sherlock’s in there with him. I think Doctor Who and MLP are too. It’s fine, stop stressing.”   
He grabs your hand before pulling you into the room. As you enter you have to duck as a table is thrown overhead in your direction. It shatters into pieces.

Oh no.


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> short break, tried to write a longer chapter ;3  
> Enjoy and comment! Love you all  
> ~GW

Your name is [???] FANDOM and you are officially on murder mode. Who is that? Smash them with the War-Hammer. What is that? Smash it with the War-Hammer. The door opens up and you, fearing another group of doctors are coming, screech and throw your nightstand in its direction.  
You hear a yell and a familiar looking- oh wait it’s Supernatural, he meanwhile, throw down someone to the ground to avoid getting hit. He doesn’t stop it as it breaks into multiple pieces on the floor. 

He glances around with wide eyes, and then turning to you, glaring. Hey, this chaos isn’t your entire fault; the havoc just seemed to go this way. It’s not that you ‘accidently’ mentioned buildings to Sherlock. Nor that he was curled up in the corner of the room under a big table and muttering to himself. That’s entirely NOT your fault.  
Same with Doctor Who. When the subject of time travel was brought up, he grabbed your arm and tried to take you out the door to something called the TARDIS. He said you two would be wibbly-woobly-timey-wimey buddies, whatever the heck that meant. But right now, you proceed to smash what’s let of your heart-rate detector into shards of nothing. 

Ḥ̫̰̮̞͉A̳̼  
͇̟͉͈̰̲  
̹͔̭̙̮̤̲H̻͓̥̝̦A͔̪̹̩̗ͅ  
͉͚̙͚͎͖̬  
̘͍̗̯̝͙H̤̰̥͔̫̺A̤

Supernatural is yelling at you and your just laughing like nobody’s business because you have no idea what he’s saying. The whole world is muffled to your power and DESTRUCTION. Yep.  
“Homestuck, get over here right NOW!” He shouts, his wings fluffed out like they do when he’s frustrated.   
Oh yeah, your name is Homestuck. Funny, it seems to slip your mind easily. He waves a hand over at the one fandom that he tackled, and you look at him for a millisecond. It only takes two milliseconds for you to freak. 

It’s him. IT’S HIM. Why is he here? What is that one fandom’s name again? Oh no, you forgot. HA. What is even going on right now? But your fear manages to take hold fast enough for you to shriek and flee over to Doctor Who. Across the room, your War-Hammer is abandoned.  
The Doctor looks back and forth between you and that other fandom and starts to try and move you closer. You yelp in protest. The other fandom is looking very pale and scared. What is he doing, don’t move toward the ENEMY!

All you remember is he attacked you. He starts trying to talk to Supernatural, but he puts a hand over him mouth and shoves him nearly into you. The fandom is ghostly like, really frightened, and trying to hide in his overcoat. He seems really, really familiar-  
Wait. What…happened? You know this guy. Wait is that…no…that’s HETALIA right? You start to flail and he takes that as a bad sign, but before he can dart away, you’re squealing and hugging him. He looks shocked and out of breath at your embrace. YOU remember. You REMEMBER. You try speaking but it comes out Alternian.

"O͖͕͉̦̜͍ͅh̼ ̨͓͕̠H͟e̜̩͕̬͚͡t̙̘̭̤̲͍̱͟a̵̩̣l̠͉͚͖͉i̢̫̜a̪̬̬͇ͅ ̙͙͎I̡̬̻̼̗̜ ̩͙̘m͉i͎͔͉̜ͅṣ̮͙̰̩̬̕ͅs̛̗̮͕e͓͓̬̬͚ͅd͖̲̫ ̡̳͓̘̤͈ͅy͇͚̘̤̜̤̝oụ̸͙̠̙̪̼!ͅ"͕̬̥̠̣̫

He glances over at Doctor Who. The Doctor smiles with a large grin, and then pats your head like a dog, he being the only one who can understand your weird language.  
“He’s speaking in his normal language because he hasn’t calmed down enough to speak correctly. He says he’s missed you.”

Hetalia gives a watery smile before hugging you back. This makes your day ten-times better. You can recall everything almost. It’s hard to keep a straight sense of mind, but finally you can focus. You missed him, you missed him, you missed him SO much. You can’t describe how much you missed him no matter how many times you repeat it.  
Its feels as if you just regained a half of yourself or something. You can remember pretty much EVERYTHING. That’s really good. Really, really, good.

You missed his large, dusty coppery-brown coat, his fluffy hair; his bright eyes and his adorable little swirl- curl on the side of his head. As it brings back memories, it brings back the bad ones too, and you frown for a second.

“You okay, Home?” He mummers into your hair as he continues to hold you not seem to let go.  
"͠Heh,͜ p͢e̡r͝f̨ect́. ͟Ab̛so͏u͞le̡tl͝y,̵ on҉e̕-hun͏dr̕ed͟ ͟p̨eŕc͟e̷nt̴, ̸per͡fe͟c̡t̨."  
You can tell Hetalia doesn’t need a translation. His eyes are nearly aglow with happiness. It seems that Supernatural is coaxing Sherlock from under the table in the corner. MLP, who had come back from you don’t know where, and Doctor Who are having a conversation about who knows what? They seem to be avoiding or ignoring to the two of you.  
This is the first times mostly everyone is reunited and not insane enough to bring out the weapons, excusing the nightstand that lays in shatters at the door. You feel overjoyed at this; even if it’s not in the best circumstances and that your own name is still on the edge.

At first glance, you could tell Hetalia was looking tired, but now face-to-face; he looks like he just woke up from a coma after seven months. He could have probably because you’ve lost track of time for the matter. Everything is kinda chaotic.   
“Y͝ou ̧l͘ǫok ́h͏or̡r̡i̸b̶le.” You say quietly, not trying to be rude, just stating a fact on how he looks.  
He nods unenthusiastically, head bobbing lowly. He takes a hand and wipes his eyes tiredly.  
“Yeah, didn’t get too much…uh, rest.” He stumbles through his words like he’s never spoken before. He’s really down right now, easily shown. You want to lean forward and hug him and shoosh-pap him, telling him everything will be okay. But you both are not in the mood for this. It wouldn’t make a big difference.   
You’re able to walk him over to the couch on the side of the room, where he nearly collapses on it.

“Can you remember anything?” He mummers, throat hoarse with exhaustion.  
“Yeah, some things…like you’re Hetalia.” You wrap a hand around his shoulders and he just smiles, he knows you’re trying hard to think. It’s just you forgot for some reason. Maybe they drugged you or something.  
“Anything else other than that? How bout’ more important things?”  
“We̛l̕l,͟ I can͜ ́remember most; don’t think I’m an idi͞ot̡. What do you mean ‘m҉o͜re͏’ important things?” Hetalia seems to tense as you say that and starts to shift uneasily away.  
“Oh nothing I just-“  
“Like you k̕i͢ss̨in̸g me?” He totally freezes. But yet you say this nonchalantly, you’re perfectly fine, like you said. His chestnut eyes seem to flit from your own dreary ones to the ground and ceiling. He’s officially in panic mode, trying to escape this conversation.  
But he can’t escape this. Thankfully, the other fandoms partially had given you two space earlier so no-one can hear you two.  
“Hetalia, stop f̨r͘eak̛ing out-“  
“Homestuck, I’m so sorry and I don’t know what happened, I didn’t mean it like that and I-“  
“Hey, bro, I’m ńǫt m̢ad̨.”  
“I’m so sorry-Wait,” He breaks-off with a startled look on his face, “what?”  
“I am not up҉set about this.”  
“But, I-“You lean forward and press your lips to his, stopping him before he can continue his rant. His goes rigid, but finally loosens while your arms sneak around him. It was only about for three seconds, but Hetalia looked as if it was an hour. He scratches the back of his head, seeming shaky and undecided on what he has to say about this. Technically, he’s pretty much in a daze. 

“So, does that-“  
“Shut up. You’re a gơod kisser; I was only in it for t̢hat̢.” You pretty much fall into his lap, tired of all this chaos. Hetalia is looking pleased with himself that he got a kiss from you. Whatever.  
Now one thing you can tell is that you knew Hetalia may have liked you a little, but not this much. You’re morials and all that, you didn’t suspect it. Of course you didn’t, because you’re really stupid sometimes. 

It only takes a few minutes before he’s sound asleep. Right now, admittedly, he is SO pathetic its making you just want to hug him and tell him comforting words and such.  
You’ve seen Hetalia crash like this before, maybe not as bad as this, but still. You’ve also seen him when he’s really in charge and perfect. Actually, Hetalia’s always been perfect in your mind. Always.

You want to kiss that stupid smirk off his face- of course platonically, you know, not in the love sense. The palest kind, because you two are the palest of pals there ever has been. It’s not like you have a crush on your morial or…something.  
Heh heh…  
…Oh no.

~


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> finally settling down all this chaos i have rained on the poor fandoms. also introducing some MLP please and thank you.  
> Enjoy and comment! Love you all <3  
> ~GW

Your name is the HETALIA FANDOM and you are reciting the words to Con-Air as it plays on your large television in high-definition.

You have been with Homestuck for such a long time you can remember the words to the most important parts. This happens to be one part.   
Homestuck is curled up in a little fort of fuzzy blankets, so wrapped in them; half of his body isn’t visible. You’ve gotten used to this, the movies, the hanging out, the talking…but most of all the pure happiness you just get from being with him.

You don’t care if he loves you, morials are fine. Perfectly fine. Because, either way, you are with him and either way you can sneak in a kiss. Yes, finally.  
Truthfully, you wouldn’t go back and try to change what you did even though it resulted in the hospital and about a whole month of convincing the doctors that you were sane enough to be let go and hurting your friends. And true, when you see Sherlock with his bright blue cast, or see the missing patches in Supernatural’s wings, or the scars that both Homestuck and Doctor Who have, you feel GUILTY. 

But look where you are now. Homestuck is ALIVE. He is alive, breathing and here with you, watching the movie he’s been addicted to since the beginning. Sure it’s probably the thousandth time you’ve seen this movie, but hey, it’s worth it for being with him.  
It took you a while to open up, and you never actually did because you snapped part-way with the whole murder-episode thing. But you’re fine now. Perfectly fine. As for your relationship with Homestuck, it doesn’t seem to stay in one place all the time. It seems to shift between ‘hey, best morial buddies here who are so platonic’ to ‘hey, this is my boyfriend, watch me kiss him’. 

Well, that’s what you see it as anyway. Homestuck can’t be officially labeled as your ‘boyfriend’ but he can be labeled as ‘your insane flush-crush morial’. That’s perfect, because that works for you too.  
It took about a three weeks, lots of therapy, comfort from Sherlock, hugs from MLP and support from Doctor Who, but you finally were able to walk up to Homestuck and say you LOVE him. Wow, kinda short and quick, but it worked just fine when he swung you in his arms and said he loved you too.  
The term ‘I love you’ wasn’t something both of you would use, but now you can say it in a comforting way. You don’t think it’s weird anymore. Your thoughts are broken as you feel your phone vibrate in your pocket, and you swiftly pull it out.

As you flip it open, you groan as you recognize the voice.  
“You still alive?”  
“Supernatural, this is the third time you’ve called.” Homestuck is watching you with a mixture of amusement and worry. You wave a hand to tell him it’s all fine. Supernatural has been like a guard dog, asking you multiple questions throughout the day.  
They’re questions about you losing it again and it makes sense, but wow, it’s so irritating it’s hard to explain. The medics probably told Nat to watch over the two of you.  
“Do you have any weapons on you?”  
“No.”  
“Are you feeling angry, depressed or suicidal?”  
“No.”  
“Are you planning on killing anyone?”  
“Yes, I’m planning on killing you if you don’t shut up and stop calling.”  
There is silence before he responds…  
“That was sarcasm, right?”  
“Oh my god- okay, goodbye Nat.”  
“No-“  
You snap your phone shut before he has a chance to respond. Homestuck begins to crack up and it results with both of you howling in laughter. Best friends forever.

“Did you hang up on him?” He chokes out through his giggles, crawling out from his blanket pile to go to your side and reach for the bowl of popcorn on the table.   
“Duh. I’m not putting up with his stupid antics right now.” You sigh deeply. Homestuck tackle hugs you and snuggles into your chest for a moment before wriggling out. He turns to face to the movie. After all this past month has put you through, he sometimes likes to randomly hug you. You think it’s for reassurance, or to make sure you’re still here. It’s a sweet gesture rather than what some other fandom would think, aside from Homestuck’s quadrants.

He grabs you wrist, making you jolt up in shock.  
“Wha-“  
“It’s my favorite part!” You gaze up at the screen with a bored, and somewhat disgruntled, expression.  
“I know that, I’ve seen it like ninety times-“  
“Shhh!” He presses and hand to your mouth then goes along with the lyrics, “How do I…get through one night without you…what kind of life-“  
“Homestuck.” He’s pretty much sunk into your lap, singing louder than before.  
“Would that be? Oh, I need you in my arms-“  
“Homestuck.”  
“Need to hold you-“He precedes to wraps his arms around your waist though the awkward position he’s in. You try to get him away but he’s clinging like a cat to a ball of yarn.  
“I will fast-forward through the song if you don’t stop and get off me.” You threateningly hold up the remote and he yelps, trying to snatch it from your grip. After a little struggle he stops and gives in. He just sighs and lies in your lap, humming but not singing. This is the best day ever.

It’s been almost a month and a half from Homestuck and you being released from the hospital. About two months and a week since Homestuck’s panic attack. It seemed much longer ago though. Its back to pale-movie-dates and feelings jams.  
Or something like that, you can really only watch movies, eat microwavable popcorn and talk because Supernatural took all the utensils that could be seen as ‘deadly’ out of the kitchen.

That includes forks and spoons. The guy can get on your nerves sometimes. You reach over and take the popcorn which is nearly gone due to Homestuck’s eating habits. He takes another handful before you can. This is why you love him.  
He leans closer and so do you. Almost face to face-  
“HEY are you guys like, making out in HERE or something?” Both of you scream loudly and jolt away at the sound of a loud voice. You turn to see a familiar face peeking through the doorway. At his side is another fandom, easily recognized too.  
“MLP could we please-“ You begin to stutter but Doctor Who stumbles in after him, slapping him and shoving the rainbow haired fandom behind his back.  
“Oh, look at that, this isn’t the laundry room, I think we’ll be going now-“  
“How did you get in?” Homestuck snaps with enough venom for it to be a snake bite. MLP starts but Doctor kicks him in the back of the knee and all you see is him fall and the crash of a body to the floor.   
“It was unlocked-“  
“Why are you here?”

MLP shouts out in the kitchen before Who can stop him, “Supernatural SENT us! He was all like angry and I told him it’d be better if he worked with the magic of friendship but no, he’s acting like he wants chaos or something. It’s like Discord-“  
Doctor Who cuts him off with a bark and then starts to back away quickly before Homestuck growls and looks over at you. You shrug and he stands with his pointed claw-like nails out as if he’s going to scratch them to death.

“Doctor, please tell him to kindly fuck off. Thank you and goodbye.” You watch and wait as your morial escorts them out the door with the irritated expression you’ve ever seen on his face. Its slams loudly and he comes back, sagging against you. You get up and kiss him on the cheek. There, all better.

He grins, a jade blush across his face happily while he sits down at your side. Due to the nice interruption, you settle on the topic of the other fandoms.  
“So, have you finally convinced Sherlock to stop putting those locks on his door?” He mutters with his mouth full. You lean down and hug him again. It’s comforting.  
“Nah, he’s still kinda scared of us but that’s okay. It’s gonna take some time, I guess. I mean, if I were him and I lived that close to someone like me, I would keep locks on my doors.”  
Though Sherlock is a close friend and has been comforting you, he still is kinda scared of you due to knocking him out cold. That would be kinda traumatizing for the fandom that is still freaked out about its fall about three years ago.

Homestuck looks up at you with his neon green stare.

“Hetalia, we’ve been through this-“  
“Yeah, yeah I know. It’s not my fault on what I did and yes, it was not on purpose and all that crap, yeah whatever.” You’ve been taking on too much of Homestuck’s lingo. Well, some of it. Not as many profanities as he uses.

“Hetalia,” Your morial puts a hand on your shoulder to get your attention, “listen to me. This isn’t easy, but you can’t continue to beat yourself up about this. It’s partially due to what I did too.”

You roll over to look up at him, “Homestuck, you know that both of us are in this. As long as you stop acting all depressed, and I get my kitchenware back, we’ll be all good.”  
“Says the guy who has the worst case of depression I’ve ever seen.”

There is silence before both of you crack up again.   
~


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alright people so we've reached the end! I'm sorry this took so long, I had some writers block writing this chapter :3  
> Anyway, I love Fandomstuck, so don't think this is the end of my Fandomstuck writing, theres more to come if you like it!  
> It's sad to end this, one of my favorites honestly and I just...asdfghjkl;
> 
> Btw, italics represent the past  
> AND i really love comments! So enjoy and I love you guys! Look foward to more Fandomstuck stuff!  
> ~GW
> 
> *EDIT* Hello people, I'm soon writing a epilouge for this. Yep, thats all to say :3

Your name is the HOMESTUCK FANDOM and you believe everything is back to normal. Or mostly that is. Okay that was a lie, why are you lying; things aren’t back to normal whatsoever.

Just yesterday, Hetalia hadn’t known you had run out for five minutes to the Update Room and totally trashed the apartment. That is yet another wall having to be repaired. The same one he destroyed earlier. But right now you’re shrieking and rolling on the ground loudly.

"It was…he had Starbucks…a-and the huge ship and…JOHN!” You scream out. Hetalia is leaning to your side, trying to hold you down from hurting someone, because you’ve already ripped the couch into partial shreds. And you really liked that couch.

“This is why you can’t go to the Update Room without me.” He mutters, his accent starting to pronounce itself when irritated. The world spinning a little, you try to get up but he pushes you back down. He knows the routine of this. Right as you snap up, jaws bared, but not enough to actually bite him if you could, his phone buzzes in his pocket. With a groan, it opens with a loud snap.

“Yes, hello?” Pause.

“This isn’t a good time! No- listen…oh good. Oh really? Okay…where? No, that’s fine…Yeah; it was about the update with Home, okay?”

You reach up and your morial smacks you down, then hesitates then glances at you. You bite your upper lip solemnly and with pleading puppy dog eyes. He sighs inaudibly.

“Yes, Doctor. Mhm, yeah don’t tell him anything- yeah, okay. Thanks, bye.” You stop your fight to hear what he said. Hetalia bends down with a grin across his face in relief. He helps you up with one hand and onto a chair in the kitchen.

“Doctor was just checking up on us because he saw me dragging you out of the Update Room, hah. Damn, I thought no-fandom had seen us! Oh, he also told me…that Supernatural’s on date.” You jolt up with shock, somewhat curious and somewhat upset. Your update feels haven’t died down yet.

“With who?” Your fangs click together oddly, and to stop, you nip at your tongue. In disgust, you taste blood within a few seconds from gnashing your teeth to hard.

“The Gravity Falls fandom apparently. That’s all I know, honestly.” He holds up his hands in a sign of surrender, expecting anger. But you just lean back, kick up your feet, and stare at the ceiling. The chair moans as it positions itself.

“Good for him.”

“What?” Brown chestnut eyes turn to meet your neon green ones incredulously.

“Good. For. Him.” You repeat slowly, phrasing each words delicately. You don’t feel jealous…you are happy that Supernatural is with someone…you guess. The words can’t come out of your mouth, like your teeth are bars of a jail cell, keeping your voice from getting out.

His fingers begin to move apart pieces of your hair that got in your face. His gaze seems to dart across all of yours, searching for something. One thing you can tell since this whole fiasco is that Hetalia isn’t the same anymore. His eyes have a little darkness under them, shadowed rings like yours, but yours aren’t as obvious against your grayish skin. His curl, and come on admit it, really adorably, swoops into a heart sometimes. That thing has a mind of its own or something, really.

Another noticeable thing is that he’s exhausted now; you think that when the insanity caught up, so did the weight of it. It’s another thing to drag someone down.

“Homestuck…aren’t you angry?” Hetalia’s voice is a little more than a whisper. He looks so young. Like when you first met him, a fandom who needed a friend at his side.

“No, not really…I don’t think you see how quadrants really work, since we have four, well…I’m not going into this, I’m too tired for it. The bottom line is, no, I’m not upset...” He glances around before pulling out his phone and saying,

“So, then you wanna go spy on them?” Oh how you love your morail. Your grin is wide, mind ecstatic and bright for a change. Hetalia is really the best friend you could have ever asked for. Because morails are important. And you never let one down.

“You have no idea.”

You don’t have the best life, and you don’t have the best home or anything that would make you memorable throughout the years like other fandoms. But you have Hetalia, and that’s all you really want…

…

_It wasn’t the best day for you, in fact, today really sucked. The others called you names again, laughed and pointed and cussed at you. This is daily life in the Fandom Base. Every day, putting up with name-calling, threats and all of the things you’ve gone through since a young fandom._

_You are the HOMESTUCK FANDOM and you don’t have any friends. You are surprised that you haven’t exploded with all the sheer pain of this. Heart-wrenching ends, horrifying updates, and all that happens is…crying a lot and having no one there for you. You trip multiple times as you make your way through to your door. It’s a sad little door in the middle of a large hallway, marked 413, the best number you could have gotten._

_Yet you only walk past your home, you don’t feel like entering. You usually only go in there to hide anyway, like the freak you are. Walking helps calm your nerves, and you have to drop by the Update Room anyway. Rubbing sleepy eyes, you lazily go through the corridor._

_Before something throws you to the wall sharply. The obvious thing to do is shriek. Like a little girl. You whip around to face a dark looking- oh no, it’s one of those animes from the hallway up. You are thrown like a rag-doll, limp and helpless to the ground. Before anything else happens, you dash away; too fast for them thankfully, you’ve had a lot of practice from running away. You make way into a random room, a supply place or closet of some kind, before whatever was after you have passed. When you turn with a sigh of relief, it transforms into a strangled gulp. Another fandom. A familiar fandom._

_He’s sitting further back, brown hair sloppily over his forehead; your eyes meet with a fandom you’ve never really liked. One big question is, what is he doing here? In a supply closet?_

_"Was it the anime fandoms?” Hetalia whispers, his hands intertwining with one another. You can only bob your head gently and take a breath. This is the fandom you haven’t liked for years. It’s just you two never got along. History isn’t what’s on your mind right now._

_You fiddle around silently with your shirt sleeves, trying to edge toward to the door. It would be less awkward if you left, but he speaks up._

_“So how’s Jade?” It takes you a minute to figure out what he was asking. Your head snaps up to stare at him in confusion and shock. Excuse you, what does he mean…does he mean your Jade? Your precious baby girl Jade Harley?_

_“What- Jade? Do you mean Jade Harley?”_

_Nod. “Course I do,”_

_How do you know who she is?”_

_"I read your comic.” His own head is down, and while your mind still comprehends what he just said to YOU. Another fandom…reads your comic. Another fandom-_

_Whoaaaaaa- Homestuck, calm down. You look like you’re having a heart attack. He doesn’t have time to say more before you are poking him in the side, trying to fight the urge to hug him. Who is paying him to do this? Is this a prank?_

_"Why? Why are you reading MY comic?” Hetalia perks up, then shifts while scanning you with his bright brown eyes- no, they’re not brown, they are mahogany- no…chestnut. Chestnut is a nice color, you like it a lot. You probably sounded rude just now._

_"Well…I thought we’d put aside our differences and make a truce. A fandom-fandom truce! We have a lot in common, like; I’m a web-comic too.” He holds out a hand to you. First thought is to smack it away and scream, ‘Liar!’ but if he’s being serious, and that wouldn’t be the best thing to do._

_“R-really?” He chuckles, face aglow._

_“Swear on it.” You feel really suspicious. Your hand meets his shakily._

_“Okay. Swear on it.” From that day forward, you officially, absolutely, had a friend you could count on with your life. So how would it go when one of you died? Oh well, that’s a question you don’t want to think about right now. Honestly, could you ever die? Hah, that sounds too stupid, that would NEVER happen._

_You wouldn’t be surprised if you two were the palest of pals in the future. Or something else._

_~_


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry this took so long D:  
> Anyway, this finishes up this series! I will be writing more Fandomstuck in the future! Comments please!  
> Love you all  
> ~GW

Your name is the HETALIA FANDOM and it’s been a while hasn’t it? A while means two years, three months, ten days and seven hours exactly. You left for…important reasons. Okay, you lied; you’ve been taken away to special places because you ARE a world-wide fandom after all. Homestuck is world-wide too, but he is not exactly as spreading as you. You wait until the door breaks open with a snap. Homestuck bursts through, his one wing fluttering out behind him.

“Hetalia!” You are pounced on by the over-exuberant fandom and tackle hugged. You hug him fiercely as he embraces and the door opens again with more figures approaching. Your morial clings to your side desperately as people begin to surge around you. His face is muffled in your shirt.

“You said you’d be gone only a little while.”

“Is two years not a little while?” You whisper, ruffling his hair roughly. His groan is loud, but not enough against the chatter of entering fandoms. Doctor Who waves excitedly while dragging a sluggish looking Sherlock behind him.

“Hey mate, how you been?” He’s missing his fez, which, as Homestuck told you over texts while away, Supernatural set it on fire with his lighter in the apartment. And the sprinklers didn’t go off so half of his place is charred still.

“Fine, good, I guess-“ “He couldn’t have been without me!” Homestuck replies swiftly, his arms coming up around your neck and holding tightly. You chuckle as he puts a party hat on your head. After the whole fiasco with you and Homestuck, he seems to have cheered up tremendously. Everyone has gathered, most of them are the fandoms that were your friends.

You didn’t want to leave, but it helped you dramatically as your spread your show-webcomic. Sherlock begins to speak, but a pink-haired fandom grabs him and starts to pull him away from your group. His protests are cut off as he disappears with her. She’s trying to kiss him and Doctor Who rushes away to help him, who by this point is wailing, “Doctor, help me!” Homestuck leans over when before he kisses you ever so slightly on the mouth. You don’t resist.

“You lied.” His words are muffled as he sinks into your chest.

“I know.”

“Cheater.”

“Love you.” He pauses to stare up at you, neon eyes searching yours. All you can see is that you care for him. It was long ago when you first met him. It was long ago when you fell for him. It was fairly recent when you kissed him. It was new when you began dating.

“Love you too.” And you both mean it with all your heart.

…

_“Please?”_

_“Well…fine.” You look up to the peculiar face of your best friend. He sighs, his gray hand going towards yours and holding it. Your spirits lift as he guides you through the darkness of the halls and leads you through unknown area. It is hard to see and you cling to him like a lifesaver in an ocean. His eyes stand out like headlights of a car in the shadows, glowing faintly._

_“So Homestuck,”_

_"What?”_

_“How come you don’t like me?” His head snaps around to meet your silent gaze. His snarl turns into a sad, placid stare, scanning you deeply. A sigh escapes his lips as you pauses to turn to you._

_“I don’t hate you-“_

_“Then what’s wrong?” You whisper, trying to encourage him. You aren’t expecting him to spill his story so easily, it will take time. Homestuck’s looks aren’t happy, he looks tired and stressed. He’s a fandom that’s been through too much. Go on Hetalia, make friends with him! You can do it… You bend forward and wrap your arms around him. He stiffens as you hug him._

_“What are you-“ “I’m hugging you. Because you need one.” You coax him into it, and his skinny arms go around your sides too. Your statement is one hundred percent true because he looks as if he hasn’t had anything nice said to him before. You can’t blame him for your sudden affection, but truthfully, you’ve been (stalking) noticing him for a little while. You two both share some similarities._

_He is quiet before replying, “Yeah…I guess I do.”_

_When you remove your face from his shoulder he’s smiling, something you have never seen before. Then he begins to chuckle at your bewildered expression._

_“Ve~?” Your voice trembled a little at the end like it does when surprised, fearful or anxious. You can’t keep the accent from your words. “Oh shut up.” He kisses you on the forehead before dragging you along with him down the corridor, both of you laughing for no reason. If there is one, you didn’t know what it was. You hope he can’t see the spreading blush across your cheeks._

_For once in your chaotic life, you feel at ease, because you are with the fandom you’ve fallen in love with. Secretly, of course. You wonder if he ever will like you in the future… Maybe._

_~ ҉ ~_


End file.
